


I Wasn't Good Enough for You (And then You Just Stopped Trying)

by saradise48



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: BioSteel Camp, Dylan deserves a happy ending most of all, Introspection, M/M, Mutual Pining, angst central - Freeform, ft. a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 18:04:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16023143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saradise48/pseuds/saradise48
Summary: Connor wished they were as okay as the photos made them seem after the fact, as okay as he made them seem when he posted a photo of the two of them laughing together on his instagram story. In reality, Connor hadn’t seen or talked to Dylan in two years.





	I Wasn't Good Enough for You (And then You Just Stopped Trying)

**Author's Note:**

> Just when I thought I was over it :) BioSteel brings out the worst in me so here we are, only two weeks late
> 
> (Everything I write for this pair ends up angsty as fuck. I have a lot of feelings about these boys, I'm sorry, but I can't help it)

No one told Connor that Dylan was coming to camp this year. He just showed up, totally unannounced, the day after the draft. 

Connor wished they were as okay as the photos made them seem after the fact, as okay as he made them seem when he posted a photo of the two of them laughing together on his instagram story. In reality, Connor hadn’t seen or talked to Dylan in two years—since camp 2016, actually. 

No one told him, not until they were grouping up for spikeball and Connor suddenly found himself paired up with him against Seguin and Cracknell. Dylan gave him a small smile, perfunctory, before it was down to business. 

Connor wished they didn’t click like they did, like they always had, after so long not speaking. But they beat Seguin and Cracknell easily without even speaking a word to each other, and before Connor could even process it, Dylan’s beaming smile was turned on him. 

His _real_ smile. The one Connor didn’t know he deserved anymore. 

He had to hold himself back so he didn’t do anything stupid like hug Dylan and confess how much he missed him, how much he missed them together. 

After that, Dylan warmed up. Just enough to start joking with Connor like things were good. Just enough that Connor could forget about what might happen at the end of the day, end of the week, when he didn’t have the excuse of camp to keep talking to Dylan. 

Connor could sense the cameras around them, even when he couldn’t see them. He was sure all of this would turn into the same thing that had happened two years ago: stories everywhere about how McStrome was reunited after so long apart. 

Connor wished it was that simple. 

“How you been, bud?” Dylan asked in the lull between spikeball and whatever Nichol had next for them. 

Connor shrugged, grabbing for one of the bottles the trainers had lined up for them on the bleachers. He was stalling, and by the look on Dylan’s face, he knew it too. “Not bad,” Connor finally said once he put the bottle back down. “Arizona treating you well this summer?”

Even through his summer tan, Connor could see Dylan blush. He had no idea what that was about. “Yeah, yeah, it’s been okay. Nice to be back in Toronto, though, you know?” Connor nodded, half a second away from saying everything he shouldn’t— _couldn’t_ —when they were all called back to attention by Nichol. 

Dylan smiled at him again, reaching up to squeeze Connor’s shoulder before leading him over to the forming group of the other guys. 

-

The thing with Connor and Dylan was that Connor hadn’t meant to stop talking to Dylan. He had wanted to be those guys from juniors who were best friends through it all, the ones that found their ways back to each other by the end of their careers. He had it all planned out. 

It had worked, too, at least until last off season. There hadn’t been a blowout argument, no admission of feelings, no confessions that Dylan had never wanted to be his friend in the first place. Just a sudden silence that started as just a few days, before turning into two years in what felt like no time at all to Connor. 

He supposed he hadn’t noticed it at first because it wasn’t like he and Dylan talked everyday, even in Connor’s rookie year. They were both too busy for that. They made time for each other when they could, and Connor always looked forward to the next time he got to talk to Dylan. But then it had turned into a week, two weeks, a month with no word at all from him, even when Connor did reach out. And by then, Connor had been too scared of the answer to ask what he had done wrong for Dylan to stop talking to him. 

So he pretended like things were okay between them while they were working out, running drills and pairing off during the exercises that required it. Even when they didn’t really, though, Connor still found himself hovering nearby Dylan subconsciously. It was almost sad how easily he fell back into his old spot, half a step back from Dylan but always nearby.

They didn’t talk about what had happened between them. Connor was still terrified of what Dylan would say if he asked, and he never brought it up on his own anyway. Maybe him showing up was his way of trying to move on, get back on track.

Connor wished it was that easy. 

-

They had an hour between off ice and on ice training, and Connor had meant to find Dylan after he had broken off from the pack while Connor was doing shuttle runs with his teammates. But when he asked around, everyone told him Dylan had bailed early, he was gone. 

“He’s gone?”

“He said something came up and he had to go. Oh, and he won’t be back tomorrow.”

-

By the time he got on the ice, Connor was questioning whether or not that afternoon had even happened. He was half convinced he had imagined Dylan being there the whole time, that his subconscious had just superimposed Dylan on another one of the guys. 

He had avoided his phone while he was dressing to get out on the ice, afraid of what he might send Dylan out of desperation if he got his hands on it before he could really think about what had happened this afternoon. 

It was all he could do while he was on the ice to just fucking _focus_ on what was going on around him right then, forget about Dylan and whether things were okay all of a sudden and he had his best friend back. He was hardly paying attention to the guys chirping each other around him, laughing and giggling like they weren’t all grown men. 

Their on ice session was over in no time, it seemed like, and Connor was scrambling off the ice, out of his gear, the first one showered and changed and out of there. 

Once he was in his car, out of the eyes of all of the other guys at camp, he allowed himself to look at his phone. He had only two notifications that he cared about waiting for him, a missed call and text, both from Dylan. 

Connor tapped on their text thread, the little white bubble the first in the thread since the week before camp last year. (Dylan had texted him _I’m not going to camp_ , simple and to the point. Connor hadn’t had the nerve to respond.)

He focused on the new text, Dylan asking him to call when he was out of training. With a shaking finger, he tapped the call button and put the phone to his ear. 

“Hey,” Dylan’s voice came on the line halfway through the second ring. Connor was frozen. “Davo?” 

“Yeah,” he croaked, then cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Good. I was worried you would ignore me like last time.”

“What? Ignore you?” Connor balked. 

“Yeah—listen, I really don’t want to do this over the phone. Can you, like, come over? Or I can come to you, whatever’s easiest-”

“I can come to you,” Connor interrupted. “Now?”

“If you’re free.”

“I can make time. We’ve needed to do this for a while. Your place?” Dylan hummed. “I’ll be there soon.”

-

For all the nerve Connor had for the few minutes he was talking to Dylan on the phone, all of it went out the window when he pulled into the Strome’s driveway and saw Dylan sitting on the porch waiting for him. He stood as Connor got out of the car, and gave a hesitant smile when Connor got to the bottom of the porch steps. 

“Hey,” Dylan said. “How was the rest of your day?”

Connor stuffed his hands in his pockets, glancing back and forth between his shoes and Dylan. “I don’t remember, honestly.”

Dylan stared at him for a moment, and looked like he was about to say something else before he thought better of it and led Connor inside in silence. Connor followed him through the house to the kitchen where Dylan immediately started fiddling with something in the fridge.

“Is everyone else out?” Connor asked hesitantly.

Dylan poked his head out from behind the fridge door. “Yeah, I don’t know where Ry and Matty are, but my parents won’t be home from work for another couple hours.”

Connor nodded even though Dylan had disappeared behind the fridge door again, and took a seat at the island. Dylan shut the fridge with nothing in his hands, confirming Connor’s suspicion that he had been using it as an excuse to not have to talk about everything. 

He came to stand on the opposite side of the island, facing Connor with his hands on the counter. He wouldn’t meet Connor’s eyes as he spoke, “You know why I didn’t come to camp last year right?” 

Connor stared helplessly. When he didn’t speak, Dylan finally looked at him. 

“I know that rule number one is to never look at media about yourself, but I couldn’t help it. It was fucking everywhere. How we were reunited, like we were star crossed lovers or something. And I was right back in your shadow. I hated it. You may see me as a player who has potential, but you’re the only one left at this point. 

And there were so many cameras today, I had to get out of there as soon as I could. Fuck, Connor, I missed you so much, but I can’t handle this anymore.”

“I don’t want you to,” Connor finally managed. Dylan scoffed. “No, Stromer, come on. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“It’s not about what you think. Just because you tell me that whatever the media is saying isn’t true doesn’t mean it doesn’t fucking get to me. You never got that. It’s always been what Connor McDavid says is the Ultimate Truth in the world. And then there’s me, washed up third overall draft pick who can’t even crack the fucking _Coyotes_ roster.”

“Why did you come today, then?” Connor practically whispered. Dylan just shook his head, staring at the counter.

“You never got that, either, did you?”

“Stromer-?”

“I’m in love with you, asshole,” Dylan interrupted. “I probably always have been. But it’s always hockey or bust with you. You could never stop and see what else was going on around you. I thought I was over it, that we could be normal at camp and I’d get my friend back. Turns out I was wrong.” 

“Hold on, what?” Dylan, during his rant, had started pacing from one end of the kitchen to the other, and only stopped when Connor stood, too. “Who said anything about that? Do I not have a vote in this?”

“You do, which is why it’s probably better that you leave now so I don’t make even more of a fool of myself-”

“If I leave I can’t kiss you,” Connor found just enough nerve to say. When he looked at Dylan, he was wide eyed, his mouth halfway open like he was trying to speak but couldn’t find the words. “I’m allowed to do that, right? Considering I’ve had a pretty hopeless crush on you since the first time we were put on a line together in Erie.”

“What?” Dylan whispered. 

“Is that really so hard to believe?”

“Connor what the _fuck_ ,” Dylan was saying, but Connor was barely paying attention because in the next moment, he was surging forward, reaching for any part of Connor he could before their lips met. Connor wasn’t ashamed to say he melted into it. He thought he had fucked up any last chance he had with Dylan a long time ago. Yet here they were, making out against the kitchen counter of Dylan’s childhood home. 

Dylan pulled away a while later. “I still can’t come to camp, unless you want me kissing you every five seconds. Can’t have the star spokesperson for biosteel getting distracted constantly.”

“You’re gonna have a lot of time to make up for then over the next couple days,” Connor replied with a smirk. Dylan only smiled fondly at Connor before he pulled him back in.

**Author's Note:**

> I spent way too long analyzing those highlight videos from camp trying to find Dylan in the background of all the shots after day 1. where did he go????
> 
> Title from I Hope this Comes Back to Haunt You by Neck Deep


End file.
